At the time, I actually admired him for it. Thought he was principled. A man of standards.
I told myself to be patient. Give it time. Feelings would grow.
That glass of water stayed on the bed for three years.
The rumors outside were relentless. People said Sylvester either had something wrong with him physically or simply didn't like women, and that he'd only married me to satisfy the family alliance.
He never denied any of it. Denying the rumors would only turn the spotlight on himself and anger Matriarch Farley.
And during that time, he did seem to thaw. A little.
He'd join me for breakfast occasionally. He'd send coffee to my office when I worked late. He even backed my proposals in board meetings.
I thought life would just continue like that.
Then the news came that Lucy Stephens was returning from overseas.
That day, I'd allowed myself a rare moment of peace. I sat in the piano room at home and played a Chopin nocturne.
He actually came in. Leaned against the doorframe and listened without a word.
When I finished, he walked over and said softly, "That was beautiful."
I looked up at him. For once, there was warmth in his eyes.
I leaned closer. He didn't pull away.